I need a sense of place. I need to feel valued. That I have a voice. That I am responsible for the place. Our place.
I need these professionally.
I need them personally.
My daughter is in her second year of a graduate program, and she has been teaching ENG 101 courses for the last year and a half.
Last week she baked some bagels for her students and knitted them all these cute coasters that tie up to look like flowers in a pot.

This is the kind of place I need.
Not a place that has large bay windows but has a thoughtful mentor. Not one that has the best textbook, but one that feels like it is cared for. I need a place where I feel inspired to be things I am not yet. To do things I have yet to do. I need place that is not heated by a furnace, but one that is heated by the fire of community and adventure. I don’t need or want rows of chairs, but rather open space and inviting corners and sofas.
A place is multidimensional and is cared for by someone who understands that. Someone who invites me to be the co-conspirator. I want a place that feels revolutionary. My kid baked some bagels for her students. She knitted them coasters for coffee on a cold day. That is the kind of place I need.
I need a child who know how to make bagels, which require boiling and baking!